Of Snowmen and Siblings
by Blaze Moonlight
Summary: It's Christmas and the first-years are building a snowman. Sirius watches as conflict unfolds.


Sirius Black smiled slightly at the small group of Hufflepuff first years that were attempting, and had nearly finished, building a snowman several yards away from where the marauders sat. He couldn't help but find it rather nice, those innocent eleven year old going about their childish business in such a determined fashion. He nodded and chuckled as James stopped for breath midway through his newly elongated Evans and Quidditch rant and tossed a handful of snow at the glasses wearing fifth year. Then he frowned. Who would be approaching the first years and their snow-creature but the King of Kill-joys himself, Severus Snape.

"What are you doing?" the Slytherin hissed.

"B-building a snowman…" a short brunette girl stammered, edging backwards slightly.

"Out of what? And where did you get if from?"

Sirius smirked at the pointless questions – what was Snivelus attempting to do?

"S-snow f-from the g-ground."

"And?"

"What do you mean?"

"The clothing?"

The girl flushed, looking down at her shoes, "We g-gave it ours."

Severus glared for a few moments, clearly thinking before scowling. "A likely story. Those materials are far too expensive for a group of first years, especially Hufflepuffs, you stole them."

Sirius choked with indignation, the other Marauders turning to watch the exchange with him.

"No we didn't," the girl replied, her voice rising.

"As a Prefect I am quite within my rights to confiscate stolen property," Snape drawled meanly, snatching the hat, scarf and gloves from the pile of snow, "The rightful owners of these items can collect them from Professor Slughorn this evening." With that the greasy teen stormed away.

Sirius was livid; he wrapped his hand around his wand and swore as his comrades also reached for their weapons ready to take on the teen who was now reading some evil looking tome that he'd pulled from his bag instead of expecting retaliation. Then he spotted them, two figures, one dark and the other fair haired, one clearly sporting a Slytherin scarf, were approaching. Until he could figure out who they were he knew he would have to assume that the four of them should wait to catch the slime ball unaided, he didn't want to start a fight they couldn't win. He held out a hand to stop the others and waited.

Several moments later, just as the duo came level with the group of, now distraught, first years he recognised one. The one with the plain scarf was none other than Regulus A. Black. An easy fight. He went to start forward but before he could get to his feet Remus' hand caught his jacket as the pale teen muttered, "Wait. Stay hidden."

He scowled, what was there to wait for? Snape had upset these first years and now the Brat and some random other git were going to shove it in their faces.

"Your snowman is rather underdressed," the dark hair boy remarked as he passed briskly.

Sirius growled, the cowardly brat, picking on first years. The only consolation for the poor kids was that it was quick.

"S-Severus Snape took its hat, scarf and gloves…" one of them sighed.

The blond one, whom he didn't recognise, whirled, "Say what?!"

"Severus Snape took them, the fifth year," the girl said hesitantly.

Sirius was baffled as he saw the blond and his brother glance at each other and then at Snape as smirks appeared on both of their faces.

"And what exactly are you planning on doing about that?" Regulus drawled.

The first years shared worried looks, "N-nothing I suppose," the most talkative one confessed, "We don't have anymore stuff and Severus Snape's kind of really scares me."

"Not as much as we scare him," the pale blond mouthed at Regulus with a grin, confusing all the first years who obviously couldn't lip-read, and confusing Sirius who couldn't fathom the meaning of the remark.

"Well that won't do will it," Regulus remarked haughtily, flicking his head with irritation, "I'm not having Severus 'Scrooge' Snape going around killing snowmen, it reflects terribly on all of us."

The blond grinned and whispered something that Sirius couldn't hear to which Regulus responded by whipping out his wand and pulling a red and green scarf had from his bag that he shoved onto the snowman's head.

"Gryffindor and Slytherin colours?" blurted out a previously silent member of the snowman building team, immediately clapping his hands over his mouth a look of guilt and fear coming over his face.

"No," Regulus sighed with a dismissive shake of his head, "Traditional Christmas colours from a crazy old Aunt who can't seem to comprehend my hatred of hats."

"Can we really have this?" asked the main girl.

"Keep it," Regulus shrugged, "I've no use for it. It's not going to salvage your snowman though."

"But that's okay," cut in the grinning blond, "Because we're going to replace it anyway."

Regulus smirked, walking away, "If you'll excuse us a moment."

Sirius felt a pang of anticipation, he wasn't sure why but he had a feeling that what was about to happen would be very interesting.

Sure enough, the duo walked over to the back of where Snape was sat and began to cast some sort of spell that Sirius couldn't identify. Severus Snape remained oblivious as the duo eventually stopped and walked away.

"I don't think it worked," suggested one of the first years and the duo walked back in their direction. Snape turned a page.

There was a flash of white and a crack.

Severus Snape was covered in snow, rigid and bolt upright.

Sirius couldn't hold back a snort. So Snape was the replacement snowman. How amusing. He looked over to the pair that had instigated the bully's transformation. They were walking along, elbows touching; faces wearing smirks that Sirius knew from other people meant that the smirker was holding in laughter. Well if he wasn't wronger that the guy who invented witch burnings then he didn't know what was. He could see his fellow Marauders looking shocked and confused. They had obviously not realised that although it was usually gravely misdirected Regulus did posses his brother's knack for mischief. And deep down maybe a little of his sense of honour and gallantry.

He felt a snowball collide with the back of his skull accompanied by a shocking but familiar yell of, "Merry Christmas!"

He grabbed a snowball of his own and lobbed it back at his younger brother.

After all it was the season of giving.


End file.
